


Golden Boy

by Pigeonsplotinsecrecy



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Abuse, Angst is likely, Celebrity AU, Depression, James is a jerk, Singer AU, Stalker, Suicidal Themes, angst likely, did i mention this is not pro james, famous au, james is bad, lots of triggering stuff probably, mac is too good
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-05-28 06:43:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19388635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy/pseuds/Pigeonsplotinsecrecy
Summary: The AU where Mac is a global pop star with a dark past, Jack is his bodyguard, Matty is his manager, Riley is his social media coordinator, and Bozer is his stylist. When Mac starts getting letters from a deranged fan and his estranged father comes back to town, things become dangerous for the world’s favorite singer.





	1. The Chaos Begins

A screaming crowd had formed outside the entrance of the club, Mac had been informed just as he was about to leave. Anxiety clogged his nose as he tried to get air into his lungs. He felt cage in by the fans waiting for him, but he also felt obligation. It was always a risk for Mac to go anywhere, especially when one sneaky picture, one unexpected camera flash, could result in a hoard of screaming fans congregating in hopes of meeting or at least seeing the beloved Angus MacGyver. Even people who weren’t fans would join the crowd for the bragging rights of an encounter with the world’s most sought-after singer. “Mac, someone leaked your location. We need to go out the back,” Jack told him firmly. Jack loved having fun, but he snapped into protective bodyguard mode when even the trace scent of a threat filled the air.

“I can’t,” Mac protested, as stubborn as he always was about these things. He didn’t like sneaking out of places like a thief in the night. He wanted to act cool like the person everyone thought him to be. He wanted to have grace under pressure, to look unshakeable even under the worst of circumstances. Besides, screaming fans was nothing. He’d been through worse. Still, the noise set his mind on edge, filling his bones with hypervigilance as he glued on a smile to make it look like he loved the attention when really he just wanted to disappear. He couldn’t be a star and a shrinking violet, so he pushed the anxiety into the box of emotions stored in his chest. “I can’t go out the back exit.”

“Why the hell not? You shouldn’t be risking it with all those people out front. You don’t even like crowds. I’ll call Cal and have him pull the car around back,” Jack replied pulling out his phone. It was brand new. Mac had broken the last one by fixing a light before his concert. Jack gave him a look as if to say, “Don’t break this one.” Mac had plenty of money in his touring budget specifically for broken phone expenditures.

“No, don’t do that. My fans came here just for me. I have to at least say hello to them.”

“You don’t owe them anything, especially if it gets in the way of me keeping you safe. As your bodyguards and more importantly your friend, I don’t want you going out there. It’s not safe.”

“Don’t be such a worrier. Jack, we’ve gone through worse. Nothing’s different now. This is my life, and I can’t run away from it just because it’s easier to hide. I’ve done enough hiding.”

“Come on, man, do you know how hard it is for me to assure your safety when there’s a mob out there? I can’t do my job when there’s so many, in the nerd speak you love so well, uncontrolled variables. You damn well know I’m not a hard ass, and I don’t stray from breaking the rules when I need to, but your safety ain’t negotiable.”

“I don’t have to ask permission.”

“Don’t be a diva.”

“This is my job! You don’t have to come with me, but I have to go see those people.”

“Well, of course I’m going to come with you, but I’m not going to like it.” Jack shook his head, “Don’t you have a single self-preserving bone in your body?”

Mac grinned, “One more than you I think.”

“I’m not the one with fans who want to destroy you, partner.”

“No one wants to destroy me. They’re fans not assassins.”

“It can be a thin line, which is why I want you glued to my side when we go out there. You hear me? No wandering off. Absolutely no improvising. Got it?”

Mac rolled his eyes, “Yes, dad.”

“I’m serious, kid. You and me don’t work if we’re not together.” Mac nodded. “Ready to brave the big bad world?”

“I’m ready,” Mac said, pushing open the door, to a sea of screams and flashes. How had so many people gotten there so fast? Oddly enough, Mac hated crowds. He hated being around so many people that his brain couldn’t think. He loved his job, but the being a celebrity aspect still didn’t resonate with him, even after having spent nearly his whole life in the spotlight thanks to his father’s insistent that he work, work, work.

“Angus,” he heard a woman cry. The two syllables felt like grinding in his ears. It was a stupid name but was becoming more popular. Somehow, it had become something glamorous simply for being associated with the world’s hottest pop star. He’d actually made the name Angus trendy, which made him a little sick. Young parents, who had grown up with Mac, thought, “I want my kid to be that cool,” and then named their offspring after him.

Mac knew he wasn’t that cool. He was a giant nerd, but that had always been something he kept to himself. If they knew the real him, he didn’t think anyone would want to name their kid Angus, Mac, MacGyver, or whatever version of his name they were handing out to little ones.

Mac hated his given name, and he certainly wouldn’t wish it on any little baby being born into a world where having the name Angus would result in taunts and teases from kids with names like Michael or Aaron (not that Mac was still bitter). To those kids being born, Angus MacGyver would just be that old, lame heartthrob that their parents once loved, and when they grew up, those kids bearing his name wouldn’t be saved by the fame and coolness Mac had during the peak of his career. They’d be mocked just as he was.

People didn’t stay young and cool forever.

He’d wind up as an aged has been, and it was only a matter of time before the crowds stopped showing up. He’d been at the singing thing since he was fourteen. It’d been a long run, and while he didn’t want to quit, he knew there was only one place to go after a career peak. He didn’t like to think about what happened after.

A blonde woman grabbed his arm, steadying herself from the shoving and chaos of the small mob. Mac felt himself be pulled into the huddle of bodies. “Hey,” Jack called, prying her arm off Mac. “No touching.”

“She was just trying to get her balance,” Mac mouthed at Jack.

“She was pulling you,” Jack mouthed back as Mac asked the woman her name and signed a piece of paper with lyrics so she could get a tattoo with Mac’s handwriting. Mac gladly obliged. He had learned at a young age to be agreeable.

“Come on,” Jack tugged at Mac’s arm after the eleventh signature. “We need to get you out of here. The crowd is getting rowdy.” It had grown a little even since Mac had gotten there, which would make it hard to push through the bodies blocking the way to Mac’s car. Jack turned to the crowd, putting on his strong and serious voice, “That’s enough. Mr. MacGyver has to be going now. Sorry.” The crowd groaned, glowering at Jack. In these cases, Jack always had to be the bearer of bad news because Mac never liked to say no to anyone and would probably spend a full hour (or more) with the crowd if given a chance, but by then, they might have wandered too far out of safety for Jack to have the kind of control he wanted in situations like these. It was already hard enough as it was to keep Mac safe .

Jack shielded Mac as he pushed their way through the crowd, slowly but surely guiding them to the car. Jack slowly peeled the door open, trying not to wound the bodies of people flinging themselves towards the car. Jack climbed in beside Mac as one man threw himself through the slim space left as the door closed. Heart beating fast, Jack pushed the fan out, and shut the door, relieved that now Mac was safe. Well, safer. The car shook as fans stood too close for comfort. Mac had Jack roll down the window just a crack and told the fans to step away from the car so that no one would get hit. When Mac spoke, it was hard not to listen.

“I loved you on _Polly’s Way,_ ” a voice pierced through the yells, sobs, and infatuated giggles. Mac was tempted to poke his head out of the car to see the fan. Because who cared about _Polly’s Way_ now that he was the biggest singer in the world? _Polly’s Way_ seemed like a lifetime ago, a lifetime Mac didn’t let himself think about too often.

Mac avoided memories of _Polly’s Way,_ preferring to forget the show even existed. Mac wasn’t always a singer. Before his singing career, he was a sad and lonely little boy reeling from the loss of his mother. He had started his career as an actor of all things (or as much of an actor a six-year-old thrust onto a TV show could be). He never thought he was any good at that job, but he supposed he was successful given his long acting run. From six to thirteen, he was on _Polly’s Way_ , a dramedy about a socialite getting custody of her niece and two nephews. The premise was nothing special, but something kept the audience tuning in for seven seasons.

While he grew up behind the camera, Mac never wanted to be an actor. All he really wanted was to be happy and the only thing that made him happy was to sing and build stuff. Even before his mom had died, he always wanted to sing. He’d been told he had the voice of angel, just like his mother, but his dad had constantly reminded him that singing was a waste of time, so he’d taken Mac to acting auditions instead. It started with a few commercials as a gap-toothed five-year-old, but then he’d landed his part as the brilliant youngest kid, Bryan, a part that required little acting on Mac’s part because of how alike he and his character were. He would sometimes even debunk the “nerd speak” the writers tried to pen for his character by pointing out any scientific or factual inaccuracies. At first the writers had scoffed at him, thinking he was just a spoiled little shithead, realizing gradually that the spoiled little shit head was even smarter than the character he played.

Mac’s brilliance and baby blue eyes had quickly won even the most skeptical of the crew members, which meant that growing up on a TV set wasn’t that bad. Mac would help the crew when things broke, using bubblegum and paperclips to put dysfunctional props back into order. It was impossible not to be smitten with him or at least impressed that such a little boy could be so multitalented. He’d charmed everyone on set and when the show premiered, he charmed the rest of America as well. Eventually, he conquered the whole world with his bright eyes and easy smile.

Acting had never been part of the plan, at least not his plan, but the only plan that mattered was his father’s. He hadn’t even been old enough to consider too deeply what he wanted to be when he grew up, but he knew he loved singing. He knew that singing would have made his mom so happy. James never seemed happy about anything, except for the paychecks, so when the _Polly’s Way_ checks started to dry up and the acting jobs weren’t falling into place, James was more than happy to sign off on a singing career because James wasn’t going to let Mac spend his teenage years, “sitting on his ass.”

That’s how Angus MacGyver, international pop sensation, was born.


	2. You've Got Mail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac gets unwanted mail and an unwanted visitor.

A knock at his door pulled Mac from his sleep. People didn’t just come knocking at his door, especially considering he had a perfectly useful doorbell they could ring if they wanted his attention. The sky was still dim enough that Mac knew without checking that it was too early for friends to be dropping by. Still, it was more likely to be a friend looking for a place to crash after a very long night rather than an intruder.

Intruders normally couldn’t get anywhere near his door or even on his property. He had decent security and a gated property to keep random people wandering onto his property who weren’t on his list of accepted visitors. Even so, desperate fans still found a way to sneak in from time to time. Mac got out of bed, throwing on his robe, and heading to the main entrance. It was probably Riles or Boze, and if it wasn’t, he’d ignore them and go back to bed, and ignore whoever it was. If they were still there when he woke up again, he’d know it was time to call Jack (though Jack would insist on the time to call him being immediately). He couldn’t risk ignoring the knocking in case it was someone who needed his attention. Mac prided himself on being available for his friends as much as he could, even when he was sleep deprived after a long night of being out and about.

He looked out the peephole, surprised when there wasn’t a person in sight, no one at all. Was he missing something? Was this part of a game of celebrity ding dong ditch? Was he just too tired to think straight? Had he been imagining things, his dreams somehow mixing with reality? No, he was sure there had been someone knocking. Now, he kind of wished he had taken Jack up on the offer to install cameras around the property to alleviate his curiosity, but Mac hadn’t thought all that trouble was necessary. He still didn’t. Cameras seemed like a much too big of a deal for someone like him who liked to live life as simple and drama free as possible. Cameras were like asking for a show.

Instead of heading back to his bedroom, he went to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. Mac could have gone back to sleep, but he had an interview later, and now that he was wide awake, he was too nervous to go back to sleep. Performing in front of a crowd was nothing but being grilled about things ranging from his next album to his apparently packed love life was stressful. Interviewers didn’t always like to stay within his comfort zone. They’d question him, and then question that the answers to the question were true. He could never win.

With his coffee in hand, he went to his music ring. Pulling out his guitar, he sighed. If nothing else, maybe he could channel his anxiety into a song.

* * *

Jack dropped Mac back off at his home after the interview, and Mac was exhausted. It was only just after lunch time, but while Nancy, the interviewer had been nice, her questions had been never ending. Plus, Mac’s sleep had been rudely interrupted by a mysterious knock that came with no visitor. He was cranky and looking forward to taking a nap, which is why he’d told Jack that he could be done for the day as Mac had no plans of leaving his house. As always, Jack had told him to call if needed and had offered to hang out for a bit, both offers which Mac passed up on. He needed some peace and quiet.

As he put his stuff down on the floor, taking off his shoes as he stepped through the door, he heard what sounded like the radio coming from his music room. He pulled his phone out from his pocket in case he needed to call Jack. Mac knew that he probably should have called Jack first, just to be safe. Jack would kill Mac if he knew he didn’t, but the sound had probably just been his imagination going wild. The sound was definitely real, but Mac wasn’t convinced it was someone breaking in. Who broke in and blasted music? Yes, he decided, the chances of someone being in his house had to be pretty slim. He’d probably just forgotten to turn his radio off that morning, nothing sinister. He had been listening to it while he was getting ready, and in his rush had left it on. Despite this, Mac was still a little worried. He could be walking into the start of horror movie. He didn’t want to be the dumb blond who wound up dead.

Creeping as quietly as he could, Mac moved towards the sound. It was silly to walk on tip toe when the music would drown his steps out anyway, but it was instinct to do so, make himself as quiet as possible. He’d done that a lot back when he lived his dad. James had gotten frustrated with childish antics such as frolicking or singing. Science and academics were preferred hobbies.

Mac peaked into the room, spotting a man sitting on his chair. Graying hair peaked up from the back of the chair, the figure swaying gently to the music. It felt like Mac was the intruder and this man was the homeowner with how comfortable he looked. Mac backed out slowly, trying to figure out how to get out of the house without notice. Or if he needed to, he was sure he could piece together an explosive before the intruder noticed.

But then the intruder turned around, looking the intruder straight in the eye. But the intruder wasn’t a malicious super fan trying to see the famous Angus MacGyver. He wasn’t a robber or a killer. It was Mac’s dad, who might have been more dangerous than the other three types of intruders combined.

“Dad! You nearly scared me half to death.”

“You should have known I was here.”

“How? I don’t even know how you got in. You don’t have a key.”

“This place isn’t very secure,” James said vaguely. “You really need to get better security.”

“Maybe people could just respect my privacy.”

“Keep dreaming kid. You chose to be famous.”

Mac plopped down on the couch next to James. “No, I chose to be a singer. The fame just kind of happened.”

“I thought you were smarter than that, Son.”

“Smarter than what?” Mac hated when his dad this, making him feel like a stupid little kid who didn’t know anything and could do nothing right. James liked to think that Mac couldn’t get along without his dad, but Mac was doing just fine. He didn’t need the bastard back in his life. There was a reason it had been years since they had spoken to the point that Mac hadn’t recognized his old man with his gray hair and saggy face. Age must have caught James right when he and Mac departed, slowly making James into a man that Mac couldn’t instantly recognize.

“You insist on being a singer when you could be curing cancer. You waste your talent, and now you’re just a vapid singer who wasted all his talent.”

“You’re the one who got me involved in show business. My job requires skill and intelligence. Songs don’t just write themselves, you know.”

“Show business was meant to be a starter job to instill a work ethic, not a career. You were too smart to spend your whole day at a school with a bunch of idiots, and I thought you could handle a little job and homeschooling all at once, but I guess I overestimated your capabilities.”

“I was a little kid!”

“You’re not anymore, but you’re still prancing around, trying to win people over with your blue eyes and cheeky smile. How pathetic is that. You should be embarrassed.”

“I don’t want to have this fight with you again.”

“And I didn’t want to be fired as your manager, but you made the dumb choice to go to Matilda Webber of all people.”

“We don’t work well together, and you made it pretty clear that you didn’t want me in your life anymore when I told you I didn’t want you managing me anymore.”

“What did you expect when you kicked me out of your life?”

“I didn’t kick you out of my life. I kicked you out of my career because I wanted to have a good relationship with you. I didn’t want you to leave and never come back. You made it pretty clear that you didn’t want a personal relationship with me.”

“That’s why I’m here, son. I want things to be better between us.”

“Why should I give you a second change? You’re the parent. You shouldn’t have left me.”

“You were seventeen. It’s not like you needed me anymore. You had plenty of money and friends. You didn’t need a dad anymore. But I realize that I was wrong, Angus. I was stubborn and stupid and I need to make things right before it’s too late.”

“Maybe it’s already too late.”

“Son, I have cancer.”

“What? What kind? What stage?”

“Angus, why don’t we save the hard questions.”

Mac nodded. Now, wasn’t the time for arguing. “Will you be okay?”

“I hope. It may not be terminal, but I have a fifty percent chance that it will be.”

“And a fifty percent chance that it won’t.”

“Which is why I can’t take a chance of not making amends with you.”

“Once you give me the details of your diagnosis, I’m sure that I could—”

“Leave my treatment to me. I just want to know you’ll be there for me during this process.”

“But there has been research on—"

“Don’t worry yourself about all that now. How about we have dinner tonight and I can answer all the questions you have when you’ve had a little time to process all this.”

“Okay, I’ll make reservations somewhere where we’ll have some privacy. I’ll text you the information. Do you have the same number?”

James nodded. “I’ll see you then,” he said, talking with Mac for only a few more minutes before putting his jacket back on and getting up to leave. For the first time in a while, Mac’s visit with his father seemed too short.

* * *

After dinner with his dad, Mac felt wound up, already worrying about his dad’s treatment. He decided that despite his father’s wishes, he was going to do some research and find if there was something he could to do to make his dad’s prognosis better. James wasn’t good at being a father, but it upset Mac greatly to think that he may die. Mac didn’t want that, and that this point, he didn’t even want to be angry at his dad anymore. He wanted to move on from the past before they had no future. They had a lot to work through, but Mac was willing to expedite the process.

He unlocked his door, slipped into his, pouting a glass of wine, and plopping down on his couch before cracking open his computer to see what research he could find. As he worked, a little melody popped into his head, and he put his laptop down, hurrying to his piano to see if he could get a song out. He never liked to ignore a song idea in case it turned out to be something great. As he played, he put some lyrics to the melody, letting his fingers brush the keys and guide his songwriting. Midway through the composition, he heard his doorbell ringing, which was less creepy than a plane knock. Finishing his line of music, he got up from the piano, wondering who would be dropping by. Maybe his dad again. They’d already seen each other twice in one day. Why not make it three? Or maybe it was Jack, here to scold Mac for going out in public without protection, but Jack didn’t ring the bell, he just burst in.

Like earlier in the morning, there was no one at the door, but a letter had shot through the letter slot. He knew he should have closed that up, but having a mail slot was just so charming and fulfilled childhood dreams of having a house with mail slots, laundry shoots, and secret doors.

He looked at the letter with the words, “You better watch your back.” He rolled his eyes. It was the most generic threating letter in existence. The only way it would have been more basic is if the words had been made out of cut out magazine clippings rather than typed out. It was merely a joke, Mac was sure. Most letters like this turned out to be nothing. People liked to send them just to be pests, and he wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction of being scared.

Mac knew one thing. He wasn’t telling Jack about this or about his dad. Jack tended to worry to much, and Mac didn’t like to bother him with things that would only turn out to be nothing. Jack already had enough on his plate without juvenile pranks and daddy issues on top of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, thought I'd catch up a bit on this story since it's been a while. I hoped you liked this chapter. Feel free to leave feedback!


	3. Dad and Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac's PA gives him a letter from a mysterious source.

It had been two weeks since the letter had arrived and nothing out of the ordinary had happened within that time, and Mac’s focus had shifted to his dad’s cancer diagnosis. He’d been doing some research, and he had found some promising experimental treatment options that he’d want to try if the traditional ones failed. Mac would pay for it with money out of his own pocket too if needed. He was still angry at James, but James was still Mac’s father, and it wasn’t like Mac was short of resources. Mac wasn’t going to have another parent die.

He’d had yet to mention his dad being in town thing to Jack, who would surely go into overprotective parental substitute mode if he found out. It was easier to get reacquainted with his dad without his best friend and bodyguard hovering or worse, scaring James away completely. James had started treatment, and while Mac hadn’t talked to him a lot since their last meeting, they texted on occasion and were starting to get to a better place, and Mac didn’t want anything to ruin that. He and his dad had hard times, that was for sure, but Mac figured things could be better now that they weren’t in business together anymore and were both adults. James wasn’t good with Mac as a child, but now Mac was grown up, and they could start fresh.

Mac was in the recording studio, already working on his next album even though he still on tour for the last album. He was a little tired from all the work he was doing, but he felt good about the direction the new album was going. He still was trying to figure out which songs should make the final cut, but he wasn’t too stressed about coming up with content his fans would like. Honestly, if he hit a book with a drumstick and added some romantic lines, he’d probably have a hit with how loyal and supportive his fans were. They’d call it a modern masterpiece.

Jack by his side, Mac was sipping water and taking a break to compose himself to head back in the studio and record a song he had just written when his father had come back into his life. It was one of the more intimate songs he had written, which were always his favorite. His personal assistant, who hadn’t been working for Mac for too long, pushed into the crowed room, face red from rushing around. The kid got easily worked up, even though Mac tried not to overwhelm him with ridiculous demands or constant running around.

“Mac,” the kid said, voice raspy and frantic. “A messenger just gave me this letter to give to you.” Luke handed it to Mac, but Jack intercepted it.

“Kid, you’ve been working here long enough that you should know that if some stranger gives you something to give to Mac, it’s not that urgent. If it were, it’d be put through the proper channels.”

Luke looked a little scared. He had yet to realize that Jack was a teddy bear. “I’m sorry.”

Mac took the letter from Jack, “You don’t need to be sorry, Luke. It’s just a letter. There’s no need to be so rigid about the rules. Sometimes, it’s best just to improvise. Like that song I just recorded? The last verse wasn’t what I had written, but I improvised, and I think I made it better. Life is about being flexible, and Jack can be a bit of a worrier.”

Luke nodded looking relieved. “Don’t do something like that again,” Jack gave the kid a stern look as Luke skittered off, taking the envelope back from Mac. “You know I won’t let you open this. That would be asking for trouble.”

“It’s a letter! Nothing that harmful could be in there,” Mac argued.

“Anthrax! What if this is laced with anthrax?”

“Then, _you’ll_ be dead when you open it. Do you know the likelihood that there’s anthrax in there?”

“I’m guessing not large.”

“You guessed right.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s safe!” Jack protested. Mac could be stubborn, and they had these kinds of tiffs frequently. “I’m going to call Matty if you don’t listen to reason. She knows how to get you to listen.” As his manger and a former CIA agent (though Mac wasn’t supposed to know that), Matty had a gift of persuasion and knew how to keep Mac in line.

Mac rolled his eyes; Jack wouldn’t call Matty. He snatched the letter from Jack, walking out of the room.

“Where are you going, Hoss?”

“Somewhere private so you don’t read over my shoulder.”

“I want that letter when you’re done,” Jack warned.

“If it’s something bad, you can have it,” Mac promised, having no intention of abiding by his promise. A fear had grown in his stomach. He had a bad feeling that this letter wasn’t a random fan wanting to give Mac love. It could be the same one who had left the letter before. He knew his imagination was going wild, causing him to think irrationally, but if he didn’t fear it might be bad, he would have let Jack read over his shoulder. But if it was something cruel and hateful, Mac didn’t want Jack to witness that. He knew Jack didn’t need his protection. Jack didn’t need to be shielded from the people who hated Mac for existing, being successful, and being a celebrity, but it still seemed like something best kept to himself.

He peeled off the top of the envelope, sealed closed with a heart sticker, and pulled out the paper inside. The font was startlingly familiar; he could tell that even when the letter was still folded. The backwards outline of words were thick and bold. Mac’s heart skipped a beat as he opened the trifold. “Watch your back, Hollywood brat, or daddy won’t be the only one dying.” Mac felt sick. He hadn’t told anyone about his father’s cancer. He folded the paper back up, slipping it into his pocket. Two letters weren’t a big deal. They were scary, but in the same way Bozer’s homemade Halloween masks were scary— they could startle you but they couldn’t actually harm you. Whoever this person was, was probably just trying to freak Mac out. It had happened before.

Mac’s mind began to reel. Or it could be Murdoc, but that was impossible. Jack had made sure Murdoc would never get anywhere near Mac, and Murdoc would have signed his name at the bottom, not having time or patience for coyness. _It’s probably nothing,_ Mac reminded himself, _You can’t tell Jack or he’ll make it into something it’s not._ Until something more happened, Mac would have to keep the creepy letters to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this! Feel free to leave feedback. Things are about to heat up.
> 
> Next chapter: Mac starts a new leg of his world tour and hopes the letters will stop.


	4. On Tour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac gets nervous before going on stage.

The crowd had gathered in the stadium, already cheering and screaming excitedly. The venue was sold out, and it felt good knowing that Mac was wanted and loved by all these people.

The enthusiastic crowd faded to the back of Mac’s mind. It was just before the final show of Mac’s European leg of his tour, and pre-performance jitters were filling Mac’s body, and if he were being honest with himself, the jitters were about more than just the show. There was so much on his mind that he didn’t want to think about but couldn’t stop mulling over.

It was normal for Mac to be a little nervous before a show, and the nerves always made for an energized performance, but on this day, his nerves were a little too much on edge as thoughts of mysterious letters and his father spiraled through Mac’s head. Both situations seemed to stabilize a little, both well under control, but still, Mac couldn’t help but worry that the peace was the calm before the storm.

What scared Mac was that while the stalker had been leaving him while he was in Europe and his dad seemed to be doing okay with treatment, a part of Mac worried that it was too good to be true. He was certain that before he could stop it, things were going to go to hell, and his life would fall apart in ways he didn’t know how to fix.

Mac began taking deep breaths. He needed to get his nerves under control if he wanted to be able to give a good performance and avoid any major vocal mishaps. In live performances, mistakes were bound to happen, but Mac was a professional, and he needed to use whatever tools he could to avoid as many errors as he could.

“You okay, kid?” Jack asked, seeing that Mac had begun to pace. Mac couldn’t even think clearly enough to go help out the crew like he normally would. A worried haze fogged his mind, and it deeply bothered him that he couldn’t figure out how to make anything better. He was stuck in a state of helplessness.

“Just a little nervous,” Mac confessed, though he wasn’t going to go into detail about why anxiety had reared its ugly head. He felt a little guilty about keeping secrets from Jack, but he justified those secrets in his own mind, telling himself they were for the best.

Bozer took a sip from his energy drink. “You’re more revved up than usual. Did you gulp some of this Red Bull when I wasn’t looking.”

Riley laughed, “Boze, you know that Mac doesn’t believe in energy drinks.”

Bozer scoffed, “Yeah, but he’s perfectly fine with two shots of expresso.”

“Actually, I think he likes three,” Riley countered.

“Guys,” Mac cut between their banter. “You’re not helping.”

“Cool it, Hoss. The show will be great. Don’t you worry about that. What has got you so nervous, anyway?”

“I told you. I’m just a little nervous.”

“A little nervous is you running around trying to fix things for the tech crew. Pacing a hole in the floor and not even trying to do something productive is beyond a little nervous. You look more stressed than I’ve seen you.”

Riley thought for a moment. “Come to think about it, this is much deeper than shows. You’ve been on edge for weeks.”

“You’re right, Riles, he has been.” Oh great, now Bozer was getting suspicious too. Mac couldn’t allow all three of them to worry or else they’d go to Matty, and she’d be able to drag his worries out of him. Matty had a scary way of getting people to do what she wanted. It made her a great manager and a helpful friend, but Mac didn’t envy the people who Matty had made her sworn enemies, James MacGyver among them, which was one more reason why that can of worms had to remain closed. Matty, Jack, Riley, and Bozer all hated James, and Mac would have more to worry about than an overprotective Jack if they found out he was hanging around, and them finding out about the stalker would be even worse.

“Now’s not the time to go over all of this,” Mac told them. He appreciated their concern, but he didn’t have the time or patience for a deep dive into Angus MacGyver’s psyche. He couldn’t talk about the things that were bothering him. At least, he didn’t want to. Maybe he could just give them a kernel of the truth. Then, he wouldn’t be alone with all the feelings welling in his chest, but what would he say? How much truth would he give.”

“You need to get it off your chest if you want to feel better. You can’t perform with it all bottled up, clouding your mind from thinking in the brilliant way it usually does.”

Mac sighed. Maybe he could tell them about James, just so they would stop pestering him. It would be a half-truth but confessing might calm Mac down enough that they wouldn’t try to get more out of him. He didn’t want to tell them anything, but with three sets of eyes compelling a confession out of him, he felt he had to do something. He could say that he knew James had cancer without mentioning the part about James being back in his life. That way, they’d know why he was nervous but not the full extent of the situation.

“I found out the other day that James has cancer.”

“Did he tell you that?” Jack asked, a tightness to his voice.

Mac didn’t have it in him to lie. “Yes, but this isn’t what you think.”

“That he’s using you? That he’s using his sickness as a ploy? I think it’s exactly what I think, and you know damn well that I don’t like it. I especially don’t like that you didn’t tell me. How am I supposed to protect you when you keep the danger you’re in to yourself?”

“I’m not in danger. I’m not even letting him use me or suddenly be involved in my life. He only came to see me because he thought I should know, not because he wanted anything.”

Riley set a hand on his arm, “That’s how it always starts.”

Mac put a hand to his head, rubbing his fingers against his temple. “Guys, can we talk about this later? I kind of have a show to do, and I don’t want another thing to worry about. You’re supposed to be helping me, not stressing me out.”

“Fine,” Jack conceded. “We’re not mad at you, Mac. We’re just worried.”

Mac took a deep breath, feeling a wave of calmness fill his body. “I know, but you don’t need to worry. I’ve got it all under control.”

Jack gave him a hug, “I know, kid. I know.”

Mac’s PA Luke came into the room, breaking up the moment. “It’s show time, Mac.”

Mac shot him a smile, giving thumbs ups to his friends. “I’m ready,” he said, telling the truth. The adrenaline burst through him as he entered the stage, and sang to thousands of fans. The cries and phone lights and sing-alonging of his fans filled Mac’s heart. He looked at the faces before him in awe. That was why he loved to perform. Those people were the reason he couldn’t keep himself from writing more music and bringing it to the stage. He loved putting on a show, connecting with so many people in one place, all there for the same reason. On the stage, everything was perfect. They didn’t fall apart until he was off.

* * *

Mac arrived home to spend his week off before the next leg of the tour. He needed the break, the time at home to relax and escape his worries for a little while. He didn’t want to talk to anyone or go out and do anything. All Mac wanted was some time to himself to catch lost breaths and escape in his music. He’d get some good songs out of these feelings, he hoped.

He pulled his door open to see a pile of dozens of postcards on the floor. Mac gulped. A few words stuck out: _I know where you’ve been, and where you’ll go_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this chapter. Updates are slow with the story, but I've got it all planned out now, and so hopefully it will be a little easier. Nevertheless, this story isn't my priority at the moment. More like a cleanser for when I need something different to challenge me creatively. Thanks so much for reading. Feel free to comment.


	5. Post-Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac deals with mysterious postcards... and his dad.

Mac stares at the post cards scattered on the floor of his mansion. He scoops them up, a chill running down his spine. He flips through them all, quickly realizing that there was one from each location he had stopped on his tour. Whoever was doing this was following him around the world, and Mac only knew one person crazy enough to do that: Murdoc. Had Mac’s previous assessment that Murdoc was behind this wrong? Was Murdoc somehow dumb enough to risk Jack’s wrath again after Jack had kicked Murdoc’s ass during their last meeting? Or was it a brand-new super fan?

Mac wasn’t sure who was behind the mysterious postcards, but he knew one thing: it wasn’t a silly joke to shrug off. This was serious, and he needed to tell Jack. Yet, he made no move to call Jack because… well, Mac wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe it was that he hated to bother people when it all might’ve been an overreaction. Or maybe he was belittling his own problems again in a way that was classic Angus MacGyver. Or maybe his hubris was off the charts, and he wrongly thought he could protect himself. Whatever it was, Mac knew he was being stupid, but he was going to do it anyway because sometimes when you’re in a corner, it seems easier to break down a wall than to walk away.

Mac was startled by a knock at his door. He stacked the postcards, slipping them into a drawer where no one could catch sight of them. He checked the peephole. James MacGyver. Mac stifled a groan, wondering to himself why his dad had such shitty timing. He always seemed to be showing up when Mac was in the middle of another crisis, usually one having to do with the stalker.

For a moment, as he opened the door, Mac wondered if he should tell his father about the stalker, but he quickly decided against it. If he wasn’t telling Jack, he couldn’t tell anyone else either because while Mac liked to think he had good reasons for keeping the whole thing a secret, Jack was his best friend and any secrets Mac shared would be shared with Jack. All others, Mac had to keep to himself and maybe his guitar.

“How did you get past the gate?” Mac asked his father, trying to sound annoyed but not having the mental energy to actually be annoyed. Mac hadn’t buzzed his dad in and he certainly hadn’t told his dad the code. “It’s late.”

“I’m your father,” James said as if that was answer enough to anything Mac could ask.

Mac pointed his hand toward the living room. “Come in, then. You want coffee?”

James nodded, “That would be good.”

After the coffee was made, Mac sat down in a chair across from his dad. “What brings you here at 11 pm. You’re usually in bed by 10.”

“I knew you were coming home today, and I wanted to talk to you, and it couldn’t really wait.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t say anything was wrong.”

“No, but whenever you have urgent news, something is always wrong.”

James sighed, “The cancer is worse than I thought.”

“The treatment isn’t working?”

James shrugged, “It’s too early to tell, but it’s more serious than the doctors initially thought.”

“There are experimental treatments we could try,” Mac suggested. In his spare time, he’d been doing as much research on potential outcomes and treatments as he could so that he would be as prepared as a son could be to watch his dad fight cancer.

James shook his head, “That’s not necessary at this point. Besides, those kinds of things are expensive, and I’m not exactly a wealthy man.” Mac couldn’t believe that. James had taken most of Mac’s money from his years as a child star. “Really, son, I made some bad investments, and I was a manager by parentage not career, so it’s not like I have much income I can rely on.”

“Don’t worry about money. I’ll pay for everything if it comes to it.”

“Son, I don’t want you doing that. I want our relationship to be normal, not like it used to be.”

“It’s normal for sons to want their fathers to live, isn’t it? It’s not weird for me to offer to save your life.” Mac was loyal, even to people who didn’t deserve his loyalty. He’d never let anyone he loved, even bitterly loved, die without doing what he could to save them. His heart was soft, easily broken but resilient.

“We’ll talk about this again if it comes to that.”

“Fine. But know the offer stands. Whatever you need, I can foot the bill.” Mac knew it was dangerous to offer a blank check, but once again, he didn’t care. He would take the chance because he wanted to have a relationship with his father again. He wanted to have a dad who loved him and went to his wedding. He wanted to be cared for by the one person he had left who was related to him by blood. Maybe James would never be that person, but Mac had to try, try like he was doing since he was a ten year old kid selling his childhood away for the sake of show business.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked this! Feel free to leave any feedback!!
> 
> Next chapter: Mail-forwarding- Jack gets alarming postcards that make him worry for Mac's life.


	6. Mail Forwarding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack gets mail meant for Mac and finds out about the disturbing letters. Angry at Mac for not telling him about them. Postcards are missing from where he had them.

7 am the next morning, Mac heard his door slam shut. He shot up in his bed, freezing in panic with the thought that there was someone, possibly his stalker, in his house. He knew it wouldn’t be any of his friends because they’d all still be in bed, sleeping off hangovers probably in Bozer and Riley’s cases or lazing around with some woman in Jack’s case. Matty, meanwhile, was probably still at work.

It could be James, Mac reassured himself, but his father would have screamed at Mac to come out the second he walked through the door. Mac creeped out of bed, not one to run away from danger, even if it was stupid to go headfirst into it unprepared. The footsteps got closer until he heard thumping on his bedroom door, which he kept closed even though he lived by himself. “Angus MacGyver, get your skinny ass out here. You have some explaining to do, pal.”

Mac sighed in relief, swinging his door open to a displeased but safe Jack. “What are you doing at my house so early? I didn’t give you a key to scare me to death.”

“Me scare _you_. How did you think I felt when I got a bunch of creepy post cards addressed to you in my mailbox this morning?” Jack said, pulling a bunch of familiar looking postcards from a bag.

“You got them too?” Mac asked, confused. His stalker was bolder than he thought. What lunatic thought it was a good idea to taunt his victim’s bodyguard?

“Too? So, you got these, and you didn’t call me about it right away?”

“Jack, I was going to tell you eventually. I wanted to wait a little longer to see if it was serious.

“Eventually!” he exclaimed. “So this isn’t a new?”

Guiltily, Mac shook his head. “I’m sorry Jack.”

“It’s not your job to wait and see if something is serious. That’s _my_ job, and I need to be able to trust that you’ll let me do this. How long have you been getting them for?”

“The postcards? Just yesterday.”

“Was there anything else?”

“Some letters and stuff, but nothing much else.”

“How long?”

“Since January,” Mac confessed.

“January! It’s been fucking months, man. You damn well better have kept every single one of those letters. We’re going to the police right away, and I’ll call Matty so we can up your security.”

“I don’t need all that.”

“No, you’re not fighting me on this one. This is serious, and I’m not risking your life. Someone is seriously obsessed with you and if you’re not careful, things will quickly go bad.”

“Are you mad?” Mac asked, not wanting Jack to hate him. It was stupid to think Jack would hate him, but Mac couldn’t help but think of the years he’d spent estranged from his father, the man Mac was sure had hated him. James had only wanted him for what he give, nothing more. That wasn’t how a father should behave, but it was all he knew.

“No, I’m not mad, but I’m worried. Don’t keep shit from me again, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.”

“And I know that you won’t like this, but I think I should move in for a while. I don’t think you should be alone in this big house with that stalker still out and about.”

Mac didn’t really want to be alone anyway. He hated the emptiness of his house. “Fine,” he said with a stubborn tone, and Jack looked relieved that he had relented so easily.

“Anything else you need to tell me?”

Mac sighed, “My dad’s back in my life.”

Jack’s eyes widened in rage and surprise. “How long?”

“Does it matter.”

“Mac,” Jack warned, “Tell me. How long?”

“Since around the time the letters started to get bad.”

Jack groaned.

“No, Jack,” Mac cut in before Jack could say anything. “He has nothing to do with them.”

“I’m not ruling him out.” Jack had a stubborn streak of his own. “Show me the letters you have.”

Mac led Jack through the house to the drawer where he had stashed the letters and the postcards. He rolled it open, shocked to find that it was empty. “Someone’s been in my house, Jack.”

Jack looked up, alarmed. “What?”

“The postcards were right here. Let me see the ones you got. You got them this morning, right?” Mac said flipping through them. “These are the ones I got last night. They’re exactly the same. The stalker must have snuck in and taken them while I was sleeping.”

Jack pulled Mac by the arm to his bedroom. He pulled out a suitcase. “Pack,” he commanded, “You’re not staying here. I’m calling Matty and we’ll make other arrangements.”

Mac tried to hide his worry. This was not what he signed up for. All he wanted was to sing. “Running away won’t help. This person sent a postcard from every tour stop. They’re following me, and they’ll find me again.”

Sighing, Jack pulled Mac into a consoling hug. “I know this is all very scary for you, bud, but you’ll be okay. I just need you to work with me and let me be the bodyguard here. They may find you, but they won’t hurt you. I’ll keep you safe. They’ll have to kill me to get to you.”

Mac laughed nervously, “Let’s hope that doesn’t happen.”

“We’ll both be okay,” Jack said, “I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Jack gave him a half-hearted grin, “I never do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally updated! Hope you enjoyed this. I've got this story all planned out now, so hopefully it will be less daunting to write and I'll be guided by my own planning. Thanks so much for reading and leave any thoughts you have if you feel so inclined. I always love hearing from you xxx


	7. Protective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack is protective. James' treatment is failing.

“No, Mac, absolutely not,” Jack told him when he offered to go for coffees while Luke, Mac’s personal assistant was too busy rushing around with other tasks. “Luke can go get you some coffee once he’s done with whatever he’s been doing. You’ll just have to wait a few minutes. Or I’m sure there’s someone else here who will be glad to get you a coffee. I’d do it myself if I wasn’t afraid of the trouble you’d get into while I was gone.”

Mac crossed his arms petulantly, “You’re smothering me.”

“Someone has to do it,” Jack replied just as petulantly. “Yesterday, you got a bouquet of roses with a knife in it. A KNIFE, Mac. This isn’t something we can just ignore.”

Mac rolled his eyes, “It was a joke.”

“It was not! Someone went to the lengths to scare you or threaten you, and because I’m not sure which, I’m not going to take any chances. Someone’s out to get you, and now’s not the time to be reckless.”

“Come on, Jack. I’m going crazy being all pent up.” Mac was back on tour, but he was unable to take many trips outsides the venues in which he was performing because Jack was feeling overprotective. “I’m not scared.”

“Well, I am scared on your behalf. It’s too much of a risk for you to go out unguarded.”

“I need some fresh air. I’m choking in this stale environment.”

“Okay, diva. If you want to go out, I’m going with you.” The last thing Mac wanted was a babysitter, but as far as babysitters went, Jack was preferable because he was also a friend. Nevertheless, Mac didn’t want to give in.

“Why,” Mac whined. “I want to be independent, not a dog on a leash.”

“And I want you to be alive. Now, are you going to keep whining or are you ready to listen to reason because I have no problem keeping right on with this chat if that’s what you need.”

“No one’s going to _kill_ me. They’re just trying to scare me. Like I told you before, it’s probably just Murdoc again. We’ve dealt with him before, no problem.”

“Kid, Murdoc is a psychopath. If it is him, I’m not going to be reassured. Even if it isn’t him, that only means we don’t know what we’re up against, which can be even worse.”

“Murdoc’s never done serious damage before.” Mac knew it was a bad ecuse, but Murdoc had been taken care of, and he’d just been super obsessed with Mac. He’d never tried to kill him. “Besides, he’s not allowed anywhere near me.”

“He kidnapped you!” Jack exclaims with frustration.

“Technically, I went with him willingly. He just didn’t want to let me go home.”

Jack couldn’t fathom how smart, logical Mac was trying to make this threat, whatever it was, seem like nothing at all. Clearly, it was something big whether Mac wanted to admit it or not. “That does not make me reassured. At all. The more you talk, the more worried I am because it seems you have no common sense when it comes to protecting yourself. Do you want to get hurt? Have you learned nothing about self-preservation?”

“I guess my brain’s been other places.” Mac sighed, taking a seat on the couch in his dressing room. “My dad’s not doing well.”

Jack looked shocked at the sudden change in conversation, “You okay?” Of course, he could tell that Mac wasn’t okay, but it was still important that he ask because if he didn’t, Mac wouldn’t ever admit to being not okay. Even when prompted, Mac still had trouble admitting he wasn’t okay.

Mac shrugged, “I’m not the one with cancer. My dad’s treatment is failing.”

Jack sat next to Mac, pulling him close so that Mac was leaning against his chest. “I’m sorry, Mac. What’s his prognosis?”

There was no guarantee either way, which was what terrified Mac. His dad could die. They had their differences, but Mac would be crushed if his father die. “There’s this experimental treatment abroad that I told him I’d pay for.”

“You gave him money?” Jack replied, sounding appalled at the idea.

Oh, no, Jack was acting like a dad again. “It’s for treatment. It’s not like I gave him a blank check. It’s not a big deal.”

“Is nothing a big deal to you?” Jack asked, voice hard and biting. “I really don’t like the idea of him taking your money.”

“He didn’t ask for it. I choose to give it to him,” Mac responded defensively. He didn’t see why Jack had such an issue with Mac helping his father. _That’s what sons are for,_ Mac thought. _This is what I have to do._

Jack didn’t seem to calm. “Maybe, but he knew this would happen if he told you his treatment was failing. This just doesn’t smell right to me, man. He’s been playing with your head, trying to get you on his side. James’ relationship with you has only ever been a game of chess to him.”

“You’re being paranoid,” Mac shot back at Jack, getting a little agitated. It was Mac’s money and he could use it however he wanted. He was a fully grown adult, and he knew what he had gotten himself into. He didn’t need a lecture from his bodyguard.

“The guy robbed you. All that money you made as a kid he just put into his own pocket and blew it on whatever guys like him like to buy. It’s not right, Mac. He put you into show business to exploit you and he didn’t give a damn what you wanted or if you were happy so long as you were his little puppet. You cut ties with him for a reason, and it’s shitty of him to use cancer as a way of getting you back. He shouldn’t just want you in your life because he’s afraid to die.”

“It’s just a little money. I’m rich. It’s not like it’s going to hurt me to give it away. He only needs a few hundred thousand.”

“The money isn’t the point, Mac. The point is that it seems like a pretty big coincidence that he suddenly comes back in your life when he needs something. He didn’t talk to you for years, or did you forget that? James has been nothing but trouble for you and you’re just going to forget all that because he comes running to you with a sob story?”

“He’s my father. I’m not going to assume the worst about him. Maybe he did only come back because he’s dying, but he came back, and he could be dying, and I’m not going to waste time by being mad at him. If I only have a few months, or a year, or whatever left with him, I don’t want to regret not having fixed what was wrong between us.”

“You shouldn’t have to fix it. He’s your dad. He should have been the one to put in the effort,” Jack said, softening his voice. “Kiddo, I’m not saying that you shouldn’t give him the money or that you shouldn’t let him back in your life. That’s 100% your choice to make, and you’re a good person for wanting to save a person’s life, even after that person put you through so much pain. What I am saying, though, is that you need to be careful. Don’t let your desire to be the nicest guy in the world put your life in danger,” Jack warned, “And I’m not just talking about with your dad. I’m talking about this stalker situation too. You need to be careful because I know you want to give everything what they want from you, but you can’t do that if you’re dead. I need you to stay around.” Jack cracked a grin, “I’d be out of a job if something happened to ya.” Jack ruffled his hair, pulling him in for another hug.

Mac laughed, anger melting as he eased into Jack’s embrace. Jack was always safe, even when the rest of the world couldn’t be trusted, and it seemed like the universe was a pile of garbage. Jack would never leave Mac without saying goodbye. Jack would never use Mac or belittle him. Jack was Mac’s biggest fan and his family; yet, Mac still craved for more. He so desperately wanted a relationship with his father to prove to himself that he was worthy. “I know I shouldn’t trust him, but I just want him to love me. I want to prove to him that I can be a son worth sticking around for.”

“I know, man, but that’s not something you have to prove. If he can’t love you unconditionally, that’s his deficiency, not yours. You deserve that love, but if you don’t get it, it has nothing to do with you as a person, okay? Think of all those fans, all your friends, and the whole world practically, and remember that you are loved and that you are worth all the affection they give you.” Jack then added, “And you’re not worth shitty kinds of affection, either. Disappearing dads and stalkers are not the kind of love you deserve. You deserve unending, unselfish love.”

“Maybe so,” Mac said softly. “Maybe so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this. Feel free to leave any feedback. 
> 
> Next story I will update: He Sees Dead People


	8. It's a Wrap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE END

It was one week later, and Mac felt like sobbing, “Jack,” we need to talk. _I am such a fool,_ he thought.

“What’s the matter?” _Everything. I’m tired, and I just got bad news, and I can’t stand it._

“I was an idiot,” Mac said, pulling Jack towards his dressing room. “It’s about my dad.”

Jack groaned, “He conned you, didn’t he?”

“He didn’t really have cancer.”

Jack exhaled, “I didn’t think that he would go that far. I just thought he was trying to get some money. I thought the cancer part was true even if he lied about the severity.”

“I should have known,” Mac said with exasperation. “I did know deep down, I think”

“How did you find out?”

“I figured out my money wasn’t going to treatment. I called the doctor and he said he wasn’t even an oncologist.”

“I’m sorry, Mac,” Jack said as Mac pushed open the door, but one step into the room, Mac immediately took a step back, bumping into Jack. His face turned green.

“What is it?” Jack asked, moving Mac aside so he could get into the room.

“Oh my god,” he said as he looked at the bowl with dead rats and a knife stuck through one of them.” Instinctively, Jack threw his arm around Mac, ushering him away from the potential danger. “How did that get in here?” he asked, mostly to himself.

Mac shivered. He wasn’t used to such gruesome things, and it felt dangerous. This stalker, whoever it was, wasn’t just a harmless, obsessed fan. Mac wasn’t sure what he was going to do from here. What was a person supposed to do when even their private spaces were no longer safe from prying eyes. “Dead rats, Jack. Dead rats!”

“I know Mac, and I hate to scare you, but I think this is an inside job.”

“It can’t be. No one on my team would want to do this to me.”

“Who else would have access to your dressing room?”

“Plenty people could have snuck in,” Mac added, not wanting to assume it was someone he knew who had done this terrible thing. Mac passed by his assistant. “Luke, I need you to call the police.”

“What?” he asked looking terrified, poor kid. “Why?”

“There was a bunch of rats with a knife in my dressing room.”

“What?” he asked again, looking dumbfounded.

“Never mind. Just call the police and meet me by the stage.”

“Okay, whatever you say boss.”

“Come on, Jack.”

“Where are you going?” Jack asked, looking like he was five seconds away from putting Mac on a leash.

“I have to go do my soundcheck,” Mac said as if it were obvious. He wasn’t just going to change his plans because of some weirdo. He had a job and responsibilities that he had to keep up with, and he wouldn’t break them.

“You have to take care of our little security issue first,” Jack reminded Mac with a stern expression. He didn’t want Mac going on stage while the security issues went unresolved.

“Jack you know that I can’t do that. I won’t disappoint my fans.”

“Maybe you should cancel.”

“No, Jack. I don’t cancel when I’m sick or depressed or anxious, so why should I cancel now. Between my dad and this stalker, I feel like shit, but what am I supposed to do about it? I can’t just give up because that’s the most convenient thing to do. I’ve been through worse than this. My dad treated me as a money machine as a child, so I’m used to his behavior. As for the stalker, I know you’ll keep me safe. I trust you Jack.”

“I know, and I trust you too Mac, but it doesn’t matter how much trust we have. We have to be realistic and understand that trust can’t put the situation under my control. To do that, I need to eliminate as many variables as possible.”

Mac continued to the stage. “I understand that, but I just need to do this, and I need you to be okay with it.”

“Just do your soundcheck, and we’ll take it from there, alright?”

“Okay,” Mac said, turning towards the stage and walking on. Only to see Luke, holding the bowl of rats with the knife in his hand.

“Jack,” Mac said, freezing in terror.

“Don’t move,” Luke said.

“What’s going—” Jack cut himself off. “Oh, it’s him.”

“It’s him?” Luke cried. “Yes, it’s me. You should have known how much you meant to me Mac, but you didn’t pay attention. I was just background noise to you. Your little old assistant who meant nothing. You don’t care about me,” he said stepping closer to Mac. “You never did.”

Jack stepped between Mac and Luke. “Jack, it’s okay,” Mac said, “this is between me and him.”

“It’s not okay!” Luke yelled.

“No,” Jack agreed, not moving. “It’s not.”

“Shut up,” Luke spat.

“Why are you doing this?” Mac asked.

“You can’t even talk to me face to face! I want to talk to you, not your bodyguard. I’m not afraid to slice your precious Jack to get to you.

“Okay,” Mac said, stepping around Jack despite Jack urging him not to. “Fine, we can talk without Jack between us. Tell me what you need to say.”

“You treated me like shit. I’m just the help to you. I’ve been your fan for years, and you don’t even care. I’ve been loyal, but you still choose to be friends with other people over me. I got this job because I worshiped you, and then I realized who you really were.” Mac wasn’t sure what to do. Luke clearly wasn’t well, and Mac wasn’t trained to deal with things like this. He knew basic security tactics, but there was nothing he knew to get out of this. He just hoped security would be sent soon.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way,” Mac tried, but Luke was unappeased.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. You don’t care. I don’t even know why I’m trying to talk this out with you. It will make no difference.”

“I care about you, Luke, I really do.”

Pure rage filled Luke’s face. “You don’t care about me!” he seethed. No one does, and before Mac could do anything, Luke charged at him, throwing the rats at him and moving to plunge the knife into Mac. Luckily, before the knife could leave more than a scratch, Jack tackled Luke and restrained him until the police got there. He called for another security guard to look after Luke while Jack cared for Mac.

“You okay?” He asked, bandaging Mac’s cut arm.

“A little shaky,” Mac admitted, “But the adrenaline should be good for the show,” he said with a wobbly laugh.

Jack laughed back, patting Mac’s unharmed arm, “Yeah, kid, I think that’s true. You’re going to be okay.” He was going to move on from the stalker incident and cut his father out of his life. It would take time for him to stop feeling scared, but Mac would get through. He always did. His friends would be there to make sure of it.

“I’m going to be okay,” Mac repeated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this. Please leave feedback if you'd like. I always love hearing from you wonderful people.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I had an idea and I just had to get it written down. So, here it is. Please leave me some feedback. Thanks for reading.


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